Fleeting Moments
by rexlover180
Summary: Alfred's a NASCAR driver and Arthur is his loyal, happy husband. They've been that way for 10 years. But...what happens when Alfred gets in a crash and those 10 years never happened? One-shot! USUK


Alfred F. Jones was on top of the world. He was the star of NASCAR and had so many endorsements, he didn't know what to do with them all. He won nearly every race he went into (that one race didn't count because he spun off the track). He had a wonderful husband that he loved with all his heart.

Arthur had told him not to do the race today. But Alfred didn't listen to him. Instead, he kissed his head, then his nose and told him the lips could wait until after he won. With that promise in mind, Alfred had climbed into his car.

The beginning of the race went on like normal. He was in the lead fairly soon, having problems only a few times. He was laughing and having a good time. There was someone behind him, he couldn't see which number, and he was having a really fun time blocking him off from passing him. Alfred only got into racing because it was fun. When he was a teenager, he was sure he would be a doctor or a cop or some kind of a hero. But this was good, too.

There was just one lap left to go and Alfred was still in the lead, but that car was still there… Alfred's grip tightened on the wheel and tried speeding up so that the other guy wouldn't get in the way. He hated wrecks on the track, he'd seen more than one person injured on his account and he wanted to avoid that happening again.

"Al, you're close," Alfred's pit spoke to him through his headset. "Don't start trying anything."

"Don't worry, just making sure nothing bad happens," Alfred stated calmly. Or, as calmly as one can act when going over 100 miles per hour in what Arthur called "death machines." Suddenly, though, the car behind him decided they wanted to pass him on the outside. The other driver made a small mistake, though, accidentally slamming Alfred hard against the wall.

It was nothing he couldn't handle, he just gripped the wheel tighter and tried to keep forward. The car started spinning out, though, and the force on the front of the car was going right on Alfred's. He felt his car go up on the wall higher and higher. That was when he knew he was screwed.

"Shit!" Alfred yelled as his car started to roll. His pit tried to contact him, but it just came in as static. Alfred felt his helmet slamming against the side and once the roof of the car. He could see his engine catching fire. He was starting to get queasy from all the times he spun around. People got into crashes like this all the time, right? And they came out fine...right?

Normally, his helmet would be doing a good job of keeping him safe, like all the other people. But this one was apparently too loose. That was what he deserved for not checking it, right? His head kept on hitting against it as he slammed his head against the sides and eventually the steering wheel.

Finally, Alfred's hand went up to try to protect his body, but that just wound up with his arms hitting against the sides and he felt them crack. He screamed out in pain as he slammed his head into the wheel again, cracking the visor with all the force. His head was throbbing by the time his car finally came to a stop and Alfred couldn't tell which way the car had landed. Or where.

His vision kept going black and he noticed how long it was taking for the ambulance to catch up to him. Soon enough, though, he was pulled by his arms out of the car. Apparently, most people can somehow find it in them to just walk away from this. But Alfred couldn't even bring himself to move his legs. His helmet was ripped off him and people were looking at him. They were asking questions, but Alfred could hardly hear them.

Then, he was carried over to some other car. He couldn't even try to tell what was going on anymore. Eventually, though, everything went black.

* * *

Alfred was more than a little freaked out when he heard the sounds of monitors beeping coming into his dreams. He slowly opened his eyes, hoping it wasn't his heartbeat he was listening to. He was very disappointed, though, when he opened his eyes and found white sheets over his lower body. He could see both of his arms, one of which was hooked up to some strange wires. He blinked a few times, looking around.

Soon, though, he found a nurse standing at his bedside. She looked fairly attractive, in all honesty. If only he were older, Alfred thought. Then he might stand a chance.

"Alfred?" the nurse asked, smiling lightly.

"Yeah?" Alfred responded. His voice was so gravely, it was like he hadn't talked in weeks or maybe longer.

"Good, you can hear me," the nurse nodded. "I need you to answer some questions for me, okay?"

"Where am I?" Alfred asked.

"You're in a hospital, don't worry you're safe," the nurse stated. "You were in a car accident."

"Was it like, some drunk accident?" Alfred asked. He was a great driver. No way would it be his fault.

"Someone hit you," the woman assured. "Tell me, what year is it?"

"2002," Alfred answered simply. He remembered writing that down in English class what felt like the moment before. Apparently, it wasn't.

"Who was the last person you talked to?" the nurse asked, writing something down on a clipboard Alfred didn't see before.

"A partner for a project, Arthur, I think that's his name," Alfred stated.

"Which class?" the nurse asked.

"English," Alfred stated.

"What grade? How old are you?"

"I'm a senior," Alfred stated. "I'm 17."

"Okay, I'll be right back," the nurse smiled at him. Why was she asking all these questions? To make sure he didn't lose his memory or something? He had an amazing memory. He had a concussion once and it didn't even affect him.

The nurse left the small room that had another door to a bathroom and then two small chairs. One chair had what looked like a bag in it, that was probably Alfred's stuff. They were keeping it safe for him, that was it. The second the nurse left the room, though, Alfred heard a hushed and quick conversation on the other side of the door. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but it was very urgent, apparently.

Suddenly, though, a "WHAT?!" erupted from the hallway, making Alfred jump. The door slammed open and the weirdest person came in. It was Arthur Kirkland, Alfred's partner on his English project. But, something looked off about him…

"Sir, you shouldn't-"

"I have every right to be in here!" Arthur snapped at the woman and turned to glare at Alfred with harsh emeralds. "You bloody, little arse! How could you?"

"How could I what?" Alfred asked. "It wasn't my fault. And what do you care? Last I checked, you hated me…"

"How could I hate you?" Arthur's voice softened slightly, his eyes becoming sad. "All of those memories? They're just gone…?"

"What are you talking about?" Alfred blinked at the Brit.

"Sir, I would have to kindly ask that you leave the room," the nurse stated and Arthur just glared at her.

"He doesn't even know what the bloody year is!" Arthur nearly screamed, going to practically rip out his hair.

"Of course I do!" Alfred argued. "It's 2002!"

"It's 2012!" Arthur snapped, his eyes closing tightly. Alfred froze.

"Sir," the nurse snapped. "You need to leave now. He needs to recover before he-"

"Before he what?" Arthur yelled at her. "Remembers everything like he's supposed to? You said that there was no damage to his brain! Look at him now! He thinks he's a bloody teenager!"

"I'm right here!" Alfred yelled at him. He was feeling a little dizzy, but he didn't really care all that much. "And of course I'm a teenager! What else would I be?" That was the first time Alfred realized Arthur had something on his ring finger. It looked almost like a wedding band.

"Alfred Fucking Jones!" Arthur snapped at him. "That's who you bloody hell are! You're the man who's set the speed record, for crying out loud! You're the one who insisted on racing 5 months ago when I told you not to!"

"I didn't do any of that!" Alfred yelled at him. "The most accomplished I get is scoring a touchdown on the school's football team. I can't even get an A in any class!"

"You're not a bloody high school student!" Arthur yelled at him, going up to the foot of the bed. "You're 27, for Christ's sake!"

"I'm not 27!" Alfred yelled right back. "I knew you were crazy, Artie, but I didn't think you were this crazy!"

"Actually," the nurse sighed, biting her lip. "it is 2012."

"What?" Alfred gaped at her.

"You are 27," the nurse stated. "You were supposed to recover and then we would tell you the truth."

"You're Alfred F. Jones the NASCAR driver," Arthur stared at him with hurt in his eyes. "You're my Alfred. You have been for…for years. You don't remember that?"

"I'm gay?" Alfred's jaw dropped. Last he checked, he was straight as an arrow. Now, he was…married to Arthur Kirkland? The dork in the back of nearly all his classes?

"Mister Kirkland, we'll have to ask that you step out of the room," the nurse stated, a little irritatedly.

"You said it was that English project that made you change your mind…" Arthur muttered and left the room. Alfred just sat there, gaping. He looked down at his hands again. He guessed they did look bigger. More calloused, rough.

"Can I have a mirror?" Alfred asked the nurse.

"What?" the nurse asked.

"I asked for a mirror," Alfred stated. "I just missed 10 years of my life, I gotta know what I look like."

"Right away," the nurse nodded and disappeared for a moment. Alfred bit his lip. 10 years? And he wasn't out there being a hero? He was just…racing? His whole life, he dreamt of being like Iron Man or Superman or Batman. A hero. Did he just give up on that?

The nurse came back shortly, handing Alfred a small hand mirror. Alfred greedily took it and stared at his reflection. He did look older. A lot older. Everything was little blurry, but that's because he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes were still the same, but his face was more defined. He even had a slight beard, but that was apparently from that "5 months" Arthur was talking about. Was he in a coma?

"You said I got hit by a car," Alfred murmured. "Was I…? Was I racing?"

"Yes," the nurse nodded. "It's been recorded as one of the worst accidents of the year."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Alfred felt compelled to ask. The nurse shook her head.

"Someone just spun out is all," she stated. "I'm sorry if this is a lot to take in."

"That Arthur," Alfred stated. "He's my husband?"

"Yes," the nurse nodded. "He's been sleeping on that chair over there for the past 5 months. He's never wanted to leave your side."

"But I'm not gay…" Alfred muttered, twiddling his thumbs together. "Can you bring him back in here?"

"I don't think that's the best idea, Mister Jones," the nurse said quickly.

"I don't care! I want him in here!" Alfred yelled at her, closing his eyes tightly.

The nurse simply nodded and left the room for a while. She eventually came back with Arthur behind her. His face and eyes were slightly red, like he was just crying.

"I-I wanna be alone with him," Alfred stated simply. The nurse begrudgingly nodded and left the room. They were in an awkward silence for a while. "Why didn't you change your last name?"

"You didn't want me to," Arthur replied. "You said you like it too much."

"How long have we been…married?" Alfred asked shakily.

"5 years," Arthur stated.

"Prove it to me," Alfred stated. "Prove to me that you love me and that I…loved you. That I really am gay."

"I know you're terrified of horror movies," Arthur sighed. "I know that you want to be everyone's hero. That you're not really dumb, you just like it when people have fun around you. You were only friends with Gilbert because you felt a need to be more awesome than him. Your favorite food is ice cream, even in the winter. You hate the cold. You're obsessed with anything American. You're too stubborn to ever admit you're wrong, even if you clearly are. It took you 5 times to pass your driver's test."

"When's my birthday?" Alfred asked.

"July 4th," Arthur said easily. "And I know you know mine."

"How could I?" Alfred asked. "I've known you for, like, a week."

"And I've known you for 10 years," Arthur stared at him. "You wouldn't forget it."

Alfred sighed and thought for a moment. One date was standing out, for some reason. "April 23rd?"

"It's not like you to forget," Arthur smiled slightly. "I know you still know everything about me. At least, what you knew to 'protect' me."

"I don't know anything about you," Alfred stated.

"You knew my birthday," Arthur stated.

"I don't know," Alfred buried his head in his hand. "You…uh…something about cooking?"

"I know you still care, Alfred," Arthur sighed. "I know you, better than anyone. Even Mathew."

"You know Matt?" Alfred asked and Arthur nodded. "And you said that English project made me realize that…that I was gay?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded slowly. "I'll understand if you're not interested now. After all, you have entirely different interests. We can get a divorce, if you want…" that dejected look on Arthur's face made Alfred's heard break. It was almost like he crushed the dreams of a kid.

"I guess I might as well give it a shot," Alfred sighed, staring down. He couldn't believe he was doing this. "If I've liked you this much for 10 years, it's gotta mean something, right?"

"You'll give it a try?" Arthur asked. Alfred looked up a bit and found him smiling slightly.

"I feel something in what you said," Alfred muttered. "So I might as well see if I really am…you know…gay…"

"I understand you'll need your time," Arthur nodded. "I will give you as much as you need."

"Do I have to kiss you?" Alfred winced slightly.

"Not if you don't want to," Arthur shook his head.

"Okay," Alfred slowly nodded. "Can we…can we start with dinner? I'm really hungry."

"It's breakfast, Alfred," Arthur laughed slightly and Alfred couldn't help but laugh, too.

Maybe there was something there, but it might take a while to figure it out…

Turns out, it did. Years. Alfred never regained those 10 lost years. He didn't go back to racing. He could hardly do anything, he had some kind of head trauma that disabled him from being able to do most jobs.

So he focused on his relationship with his husband. Trying to figure out why he was gay. Arthur was a nice guy and all…And there was something there…But Alfred didn't see it as clearly as he apparently used to.

He never did give Arthur that kiss he promised him.

* * *

**Okay, so I've decided to post this because I feel really bad about not updating my other story "Song of the Day" in a while and I've had this written for a while. I know it's a little depressing at the end, but this story didn't call for a happy ending... Anyway, experts on racing, please don't attack me! I hardly know NASCAR, so if I got anything wrong, don't sue me! I tried to be as general as possible.**

**I don't own Hetalia or NASCAR. And please review! I promise I'll update "Song of the Day" soon! I swear!**


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